Page 97 of Brutal Heir
“Breathe, Ale,” she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, a smirk twitching at her lips. “It’s just dinner.”
“It’s not just dinner,” I mutter. “It’s Luca Valentino hosting Christmas Eve with all of our fucked up family in one room, which is basically the same thing as being dropped into a lion’s den wrapped in prosciutto.”
“I love prosciutto.”
“Not helping.”
Her soft laugh settles low in my gut, dissolving some of the tension there. I lean in and press a kiss to her temple, careful not to linger too long. Not yet. Not in front of the rest of the family.
Sure, now Serena, Matteo, Alessia, Isabella, and their significant others know, but it’s still not everyone. My parents, uncles, aunts and younger cousins all still think she’s just the nurse. The woman who patched me up and stuck around a little longer than expected.
If only they knew the way she undid me. Every. Damn. Day.
If I wasn’t such acoglione, I would tell them. But how can I tell my parents when I haven’t even gathered the nerve to tell Rory how I feel?
We round the corner into the sprawling living room, where multiple generations of Valentinos and Rossis are arguing over cannoli and prosecco. No little ones yet, but if I squint, I can almost see them. It won’t be long for Serena and Antonio or Bella and Raffaele. Soon there will be another generation of Valentinos and Rossis darting around underfoot. Uncle Dante is yelling in dialect, and Luca, dressed in a pressed suit with a candy cane pinned to the lapel, is already pouring wine like it’s a competitive sport.
“Alessandro!” he bellows, lifting a glass in greeting. “And the lovely Nurse Rory.Buon Natale!” A Merry Christmas it is.
“Buon Natale.” I nod, plastering on the grin I’ve perfected for nights like this.
Papà’s sharp gaze finds us next, tuggingMaalong behind him.
“Rory,tesoro, come here.”Papàpulls her into a double cheek kiss before I can even process what’s happening. Clearly, someone’s gotten into the eggnog early this year. “You look like aChristmas miracle. Tell me, are you still putting up with my son’s moody brooding and growling?”
Rory flashes him a megawatt smile. “It’s part of his charm, isn’t it?”
He throws back his head and laughs, and my mother, who’s already nursing an Aperol spritz, smirks over the rim of her glass.
“We’re very thankful for you, Rory,”Mawhispers. “The changes we’ve seen in our son in the past month are truly miraculous.”
“I wish I could take all the credit, but Alessandro here has been working hisarseoff.”
Both of my parents chuckle, and I have to smother the overwhelming urge to kiss her in front of everyone. The three of them fall into an easy conversation, and I’m surprised by how effortlessly she’s wonMaover. They’ve only met a handful of times, and my mother is not an easy person to get along with. And yet, she seems so at ease with the fiery Irish girl.
Serena sidles up next to us, winks at Rory as she chatters away with my family and bumps my shoulder.“She’s already winning over the entire room,” she whispers. “You’re officially screwed.”
“I’ve been screwed,” I mutter. “In every sense.”
Matteo saunters over next, holding up his wine glass. “To nurse Rory, for bringing our Alessandro back to life.”
Rory lifts her glass, beaming.
“Oh, fuck off, Matty,” I growl.
“Now, if you could only do something about his temper…”
“I try every day.” She shrugs, a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m an Irish nurse not a magician.”
Matteo curls his arm around her shoulders, and it’s all I can do not to rip it off. “Did I ever tell you about my Irish girl, Rory? It was a beautiful summer in Sicily?—”
“Dinner is served!” Aunt Stella announces over the chaos, walking into the dining room with an enormous platter of linguini with a lobster perched atop the mountain of pasta.
Pulling Rory free of Matteo, I usher her toward the dining room. The massive table groans under the weight of all seven fishes, calamari,baccalà, octopus salad, stuffed clams, and more dishes I can’t name but will definitely eat. I pull out a chair for her beside mine, ignoring the subtle lift of my father’s brows from across the table.
Let them guess. Let them speculate. I don’t care anymore. She’s here. She’smine.
I hazard a peek from the corner of my eye, the deep flush to her cheeks, the spark in those bejeweled irises.Dio, she’s breathtaking.Cazzo, I’m in love with her. Only a month since this woman fell into my life, hell, saved my life, and I’m completely fucking in love with her. I’ve never fallen for anyone so quickly or so wholly.
